A Moment's Peace
by singingstarryknights
Summary: The original, ratinghasbeenraised, revised, reposted version of 'Stay Like This'... GregSara.


A Moment's Peace

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The raised rating, original version of 'Stay Like This'

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Sara was woken by Greg's leg burrowing between her knees. She opened her eyes, remembering the weight of his arm thrown across her waist, his head on her shoulder. She pressed a gentle kiss to his wavy hair, smiling to herself as he shifted in his sleep, tightening his grip on her stomach, and sliding his thigh to the top of her own. His knee made contact with her intimately, and she inhaled sharply at the touch. He slept on, however, innocently unaware that he had caused a warm pressure below her belly. She shifted only just, pushing his scraggly hair out of his eyes, allowing her to see his face. Restful sleep took at least a decade off his appearance, and she found herself fighting off a twinge of panic, relaxing when she remembered that he was a legal and reasonable thirty-one. She reached up and ran her fingers through his disheveled hair, and pressed a loving kiss to his forehead. She shifted to face him, draping a thigh over the one he had wedged between hers. He instinctively pulled her against him, curling his fingers around the small of her back, snuggling into her embrace amidst the pillows and blankets.

His slight build hid his muscles well, even though he didn't look strong enough to hold her in place, she knew she wouldn't be able to remove herself from his grip without a considerable amount of effort; not that she would ever fight away from his grasp anyway. She had been addicted to the feel of his arms and his brand of affection since the first moment he touched her, just a brush of a hand against her cheek to catch a tear as it rolled down the side of her face.

He had first touched her last spring. Nick was running out of air, Warrick was flying off the handle, Grissom was arguing with Catherine. She had backed into the empty locker room to take a minute and slow her pulse back to normal. Her feet had led her to Nick's locker, and she had sat in front of it, and had cried. Greg had silently come in and sat beside her, facing the opposite wall. He reached over, ridding her delicate features of her single tear. He had pulled her toward his body, let her dry her eyes on his shoulder, holding her steady with the same embrace that he held her with even in sleep, like tonight, cradled by the bedding.

She loved him, she really, really did. She loved this man sleeping on and beside her deeply, wholly, unconditionally. She had learned that from him. She had shown him how to reveal filed down serial numbers on semi automatics, how to take the fingerprints of a dead body, how to be civil to Hodges so he would process their case evidence efficiently. He, in turn, had shown her how to cut out a window in the walls she had carefully constructed around her heart, how to let go of her conservations and her worries. He had shown her that people were not restricted to horrible deeds and lies and trickery. He had saved her, taught her how to love, and had caught her in his trusting hold when she had stumbled into love with him, tripping over her own feet the whole way.

Greg shifted again, and Sara forgot her rambling thoughts as she silently observed his sleeping movements. He rolled on top of her fully, sliding down her body to pillow his head on her stomach, just below the swell of her chest. She winced as she freed a leg from under his body, bending it at the knee and resting it against his side. She arched into him gently, and he snaked his arms around the small of her back, pressing the side of his face against her abdomen. She wove the fingers of one hand into his unruly waves of hair, dancing the fingers of her other hand across the sloping plain of his shoulder and bicep.

His body would never be the topic of gossip around the newer lab techs, like Nick's; his smile, either, like Warrick's. She had thought on it, and decided that she preferred selfishly keeping him to herself, rather than sharing him with the eyes of the lab. No one would have believed her, if she went about dropping casual hints how amazing every aspect of her life had become since letting Greg into her life, into her bed, that she was sleeping with Greg Sanders, scrawny, childish field mouse extraordinaire.

But they were more serious than just sleeping together, that was just one aspect of their relationship. He made her laugh, made her smile, made her feel safe, kept her warm. Greg Sanders made her a whole person. Sara could no longer conceive of a life without him beside her each and every time she closed her eyes, and opened them again. She was distracted from her musings when he placed a gentle kiss to the soft skin just above her navel. She turned her attention to him, and grinned lazily when she saw that he had woken up.

"Hey." He turned to look at her, smiling a hello as he crawled up her body to settle in on top of her, his own nose inches from hers. He placed a feather light kiss to her lips chastely, then dropped his head to her shoulder, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake, pressing his hips against her own. A soft moan slipped from her lips, causing him to chuckle softly against her collarbone. She arched into him involuntarily, matching his pressure with her own. She let out a labored breath, halfheartedly fighting off a wave of arousal as he shifted against her, increasing the friction between them.

"Sara." His voice had dropped to a lustful husky quality that made her thighs fall open wider, and a moan hitch in her throat. He loomed over her, a seductive spark flaring gently in his eyes, darkening the color of his irises to a deep espresso. He hooked a finger around the strap of her camisole, and tugged the thin fabric off her shoulder. She whimpered softly in protest, but wrapped a leg around his waist encouragingly. He threw her the faintest of hints of a boyish smile, before pulling the offending article of sleepwear past the swell of her breast.

"Greg! O-oh." He had tampered with her ability to string together a coherent thought when he had suddenly focused his energy on her newly bared skin. She groaned as he flicked his tongue, and gently thrust pressure against the thin cotton of her panties between her thighs. He raised his head, releasing his hold on her breast, grinding his way back up her body to catch her lips in a kiss. Sara lost herself in his kisses, aware of his lips against hers, his tongue courting hers in a less than gentlemanly fashion. She was only vaguely observant of his fingertips creating winding paths from her breast to the sensitive skin of her inner upper thigh, until he slipped an index finger into the crotch of her panties, slowly brushing against her intimately. She tore away from his kiss to cry out at his touch, arching into his hand impulsively. He curled his finger the rest of the way around the cotton, and tugged the underwear from her body gently.

If he got to tear away her underwear, it only seemed fair to her than she had a chance to reciprocate. She shifted accordingly, letting him slide her underwear down her legs and off her body. He was on to her, however, and had anticipated her eagerness to get him in the nude. He slipped away from her roaming fingers, trailing kisses down the length of her torso. He pushed away her hands, chuckling into the delicate skin just above her thigh. His laughter vibrated straight to her center, and she squirmed urgently, trying in vain to get away from him, to achieve the upper hand. Her ambition to make him shudder in orgasm before her was promptly forgotten when he ran the length of his tongue along her most delicate skin, flicking her sensitive nub.

"Whoa-oh fuck, Greg." She inhaled a sharp breath as a wave of pleasure pushed her near her limit. He had never done this, worked her this way. She tried to move, really she did, but he had pushed her put against her limit, and she grasped the sheet desperately, her breathing became erratic, and as her muscles failed to respond, becoming rigid. In a matter of seconds, Greg pushed her over the edge, taking her clit between his teeth, and gently biting in a sharp twinge. "_Greg!" _She involuntarily arched into his mouth, and she cringed as he passed his tongue over her, slipping inside her.

She meant to pull away, to gain control, to strip him of his boxers, wrap her fingers around him, and send him spiraling into the longest, hardest orgasm he had ever had.

Of course that wasn't what he had in mind.

Instantly, he pushed away from her, climbing atop her again, hungrily kissing her. She tasted what she could only identify as herself on his tongue for a mere second, before she moaned at the pressure as he twisted her nipple between his fingers. She arched against him instinctively, crying out as the tip of his cock brushed along her core. He tore his lips from hers, and his hot, jagged breath blew beside her ear, as he chuckled.

"Top or bottom, Sara." He dipped his hips only just, pushing his tip against her center. She let out a hitching moan, half whimpering, scrunching up her features.

"_Now_." She breathed through her teeth, coming close again.

"Not a choice, I asked top or bottom, not now or later." He pulled away from her only just, and she groaned softly at the loss of contact below their waists.

"_Fuck_, Greg." She muttered under her breath, a hint of frustration in her voice. He grinned at her as she twisted beneath him, trying to restore their touch.

"Top or bottom, love."

"You're driving." He paused, in mock contemplation, and she glared at him, her voice taking on a whining quality. "Greg, don't make me beg." He bent to kiss her, but kept his lips centimeters away from hers. Tilting his head to the side, he smiled at her sweetly.

"I love it when you beg."

"_Greg!"_ Sara twisted her features in concentration, and flipped Greg onto his back in one fluid motion, sliding onto him.

"_Fuck_, Sara." His fingers gripped her hips, but she had started rocking, grinding her hips against his, and pressing him into the mattress. She pulled his fingers from her hips, and pinned them with her own, and half her body weight, beside his head. Greg closed his eyes, licking his lip gently in concentration. She recognized that look; he got it at work when he was trying to birth an M.O. from bunk evidence. She grinned, and rocked her hips at a side angle, eliciting a throaty groan from him.

"Top."

"Yeah, I _get_ it." Greg squinted his eyes shut tight, pursing his lips together, and lurched up a few inches as Sara's motions came to an abrupt halt. She released his hands, bending over to him, and cupping his face gently.

"Let go, Greg, it's not a marathon." His features relaxed at her words, and he smiled, eyes still closed.

"Fuck, woman, you can't just stop like that."

"So _drive_."

Greg flipped her over on her back, rolling on top of her. He caught her lips in a kiss, thrusting fully into her at a fresh angle, causing her to gasp loudly. Her hands flew to the nape of his neck, nearly pulling his hair out in an effort to bring his lips to hers. Pushing her thigh to the mattress, his fingers shot down to feel her between them, rubbing her in a circular motion to accompany the momentum he had going into her. He felt her muscles clench around him, and he groaned into her mouth, sliding full hilt one last time, spilling into her, collapsing on top of her.

They took a few moments to collect themselves, and catch their breath. Greg eased himself off of her, and coupled pressing a sweetly placed kiss and pulling out of her. She moaned a refusal into his kiss, and wrapped a leg around his backside, pushing him back in.

"What?" he broke the kiss, and arched an eyebrow at her, amusement in his voice and across his face. "You got to give me at the very least six or seven minutes, Sara, I'm not eighteen." He laughed softly, but complied with her request, making no motion to pull out, instead settling back in, on top of her.

"Whoa no, I'm going to need more than six minutes." Greg laughed softly in tired agreement, pressing a playful kiss to Sara's jaw before nuzzling against the crook of her neck. He sighed as he felt her arms wrap around his shoulders, breathing in the soft tang of her sweat mixed with the freshly laundered scent that he always associated with her. He raised his head, and gazed at her lovingly, brushing dampened curls out of her eyes. She grinned at him lazily, sitting up slightly to kiss his cheek softly. He kissed her chastely, smiling sweetly at her.

And it was then that Greg and Sara found, amidst the tireless, frantic energy of the city around them, a moment's peace.

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A/N: Stumbled across it looking for my lesson plans… erm… decided to check how many hits it had on because I'm _that_ cool… realized it wasn't posted there any more…read it over, and decided, what the hell. I love FriskyandSeductive!Greg.


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